


The Flowers We Saw That Day

by ultravioletInk (loquaciousEscapist)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciousEscapist/pseuds/ultravioletInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Recently, though, recently he’d felt like he was getting better. He’d been managing to leave the house every other day, and his bedroom most days, and he was finally feeling like maybe he was getting his life back on track.</p>
<p>That, of course, was when Louis Tomlinson had jimmied open his bedroom window and tumbled onto the carpet...."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Why write one painfully detailed, time consuming AU, when I can write TWO? Exactly.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is not a happy fic. This is not the boys cuddling in tour buses. This is not boys frolicking in Hogwarts (I am very good at self-deprecating humour.) This is what happens when I take the boys and shove them into an alternate universe (heavy on the alternate) with influences drawn from my two favourite shows of all time - one more obvious than the other, but neither synonymous with One Direction, or it's traditional fanbase.
> 
> That said, I think this is an enjoyable fic - there is humour and love and friendship, but I ask you to please mind the warnings.
> 
> If you figure out, before the end, what this is based on, then you'll figure out the tone of the ending - I ask you to not spoil this! (if you think you know what shows I'm referring to, you're welcome to ask me on tumblr! patthedogscrewthebulb).

Harry made it almost as far at the bridge before he had to turn back, head bent low to avoid the glare of the early morning sun. It was an improvement, definitely – usually, he could only make it to the corner shop at the end of the road before he felt that panicky ache in his stomach, but this undeniably meant that tomorrow would be a Bad Day. If he was lucky, he’d be able to leave his room for the kitchen, although there was no guarantee.

His mum smiled at him as he walked in, and there was nothing snide or antagonistic in it at all, which made it even worse. He’d have preferred it if she was disappointed at how much of a wreck he’d turned out to be, rather than enthusiastically optimistic all the time.

“I made pancakes?” She said, pushing a plate stacked high with pancakes and syrup towards him and, taking advantage of the fact that his brain hadn’t turned against him just yet, Harry sat down next to her at their tiny kitchen table and dug in. “Gemma and I are going out shopping later, do you want us to get you anything?” She’d stopped asking him if he wanted to join them a few years ago, after his answer each time was a resounding ‘no’.

“Deodorant? I think I’m okay otherwise,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food, gulping down a glass of orange juice adjacent to his plate. “I’m going up to my room, can you call me for dinner?” This was one of their many arrangements – his mum would call him just before she made dinner, to see if he wanted to come down. If not, she’d order him a pizza, which Harry _knew_ they couldn’t really afford.

“Of course, darling,” she replied, already beginning her morning cleaning regime by picking up his plate and glass and dropping them into the soapy sink. Harry shuffled away, and breathed a sigh of relief when he got back into his room and shut the door – the curtains were still mostly drawn, giving the room a dim, orangey glow, and he flopped down onto his bed gratefully, completely missing the boy peering at him through the window.

***

He’d been fifteen, when his best friend had vanished. It was late in August, late enough for all of the school shopping to have been done, but still early enough to feel like the summer holidays. The last time he’d seen Louis Tomlinson (the last time _anyone_ said they’d seen Louis Tomlinson) was when he’d been waving at the end of the driveway before going home. Although most of the boys at school had pushed aside sleepovers with a firm, adolescent hand, their closely knit group of friends still gathered at one of their houses at least every other day, and Louis had been the last to leave, after spending an impressive five days at Harry’s. The other three boys had stayed over intermittently during that time, but Louis and Harry had been together constantly.

Just before Louis had left, he’d gone to step out into the road, and then had taken a neat step back, avoiding an oncoming car, before turning and waving again to Harry. Then, one minute he had been waiting for Louis to log onto his Xbox for an online football session, and the next Mrs Tomlinson was on the phone to his own mother, asking to speak to Louis to ask him why he was two hours late home. Louis, of course, wasn’t there.

The next days, weeks, months were a frenzied fit of anxiety and horror that never truly went away as Louis didn’t turn up, and eventually everyone was forced to admit that there was the distinct possibility that Louis was simply never going to be found. It happened, the adults whispered when they thought others weren’t listening – people went missing, no evidence that they had even existed, aside from the heartbroken people they left behind – but not enough for the authorities to suspect foul play.

Harry had not been impressed when a police officer had come to their house, hat in hand, to tell them sincerely that the police had done All They Could – and that was putting it _very_ lightly. He couldn’t remember what he’d said or done, he just remembered waking up a few days later with his mum pressing a cold flannel to his forehead, muttering words like ‘stress’ and ‘fever’. She’d said he could take as long as he needed to recover.

Days turned into weeks turned into months turned into years. Friends drifted away, even those who’d been friends with Louis too, and school became increasingly difficult to keep up with until his mum had suggested homeschooling, which he’d quickly taken advantage of. As long as he did the work, the authorities left him alone, and he could pretty much live his life at home, if he wanted.

He didn’t _want_ that, though, which was the awful thing. More than anything he wanted to move on, go back to school, make new friends, catch up with old ones – so, he treated whatever was wrong with his head as a typical sports injury, he just needed to retrain the muscle, that was all. This led him to leaving the house every morning that he could, to attempt to walk to school to discuss going back once a week. Most mornings he managed to get reasonably close to the school, but others involved him unable to contemplate leaving his room, let alone actually leaving the house.

Recently, though, _recently_ he’d felt like he was getting better. He’d been managing to leave the house every other day, and his bedroom most days, and he was _finally_ feeling like maybe he was getting his life back on track.

That, of course, was when Louis Tomlinson had jimmied open his bedroom window and tumbled onto the carpet.

“Ow, fuck, misjudged that entirely, I’ve probably carpet burned my _face_.” Harry blinked, not sure whether he was dreaming or hallucinating. “Well, don’t just _gawk_ , Curly, help a guy up!” Louis held out his hand impatiently, so Harry did the only sensible thing to do in this situation – he turned over to go back to sleep. Although he was facing the wall, he could hear Louis huff with annoyance, scrambling to stand up, and then he felt his bed dip as Louis loomed over him, one knee on either side of his body. “ _Oi_.”

“You’re persistent, for a hallucination,” Harry said irritably, glaring at the wall.

“I resent that! I’m here, in the flesh! Well. Mostly. Not sure what I am, to be honest, but I’d expected a warmer welcome than _this_.” Harry rolled over to stare up at Louis, who was looking down at him expectantly, his eyebrows raised.

“‘ _Mostly_ ’?”

“That’s the funny thing. But I didn’t come here to talk about me; I came to talk about you! Out with it, how is everyone? How’re you?”

“Are you a ghost?” Harry persisted; Louis rolled his eyes expressively.

“Again, talking about _me_.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, I haven’t spoken to everyone else in about three years,” Harry said, sitting up and pushing Louis off of him – he certainly felt solid, so perhaps he wasn’t dead, although it didn’t really rule out ‘hallucination’. “I’ve been getting by.”

“Three years?” Louis spluttered. “What’ve you been _doing_ all that time?”

“Getting by,” Harry repeated, getting annoyed – he shouldn’t be required to explain himself to a brain phantom masquerading as his missing best friend.

“...You look like _shit_ , mate, if I’m being honest,” Louis said, peering at Harry. “All pasty and greasy. Gross. When was the last time you showered?” Harry honestly couldn’t remember, so he chose to ignore the question.

“Maybe you’re unaware, but you kind of went missing, so I sort of went to pieces,” Harry said sarcastically – Louis, at least, had the decency to look guilty.

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d have had time to come back before now, but I’ve been pretty busy.”

“ _Busy_?” Harry shrieked, and if he was being hysterical, well. He’d held it together this long, he was probably long entitled to a bout of hysteria. “You disappear off the face of the Earth, and don’t think to think ‘hmm, maybe I’ve worried everyone, I should drop in or ring or maybe even mail a _fucking postcard_ ’?”

“I can see that you’re angry,” Louis said, and he had such a mature, reasonable expression of his face that Harry felt like punching a wall – so he did, cracking both the plaster on his wall and his knuckles satisfactorily, ruling out the possibility that this was a dream. “And I’ll explain everything to you, but right now I want to sleep, and you probably should too.” He climbed down off the bed and curled up on the floor. If Harry was feeling polite he’d offer to share his bed, or even to sleep on the floor himself, but he hadn’t bothered with social niceties for a while now, so he couldn’t see why he should start just because he was hallucinating.

His sleep was deep and angry, and he had a lot of dreams about punching things and setting fire to other things, so when he woke up he stormed out of the house and actually managed to jog for half an hour in the evening light – what stopped him was the tiredness in his legs, not the panicking in his head. It felt good to be physically tired for a change, and he walked back through the front door almost in a good mood. Which immediately dissipated when he walked into his bedroom and found Louis sitting on his bed, reading his copy of _Gone With The Wind_.

“What’re you still _doing_ here?” Harry bit out. His mum, who’d been walking down the hallway, looked at him in surprise.

“My shift doesn’t start until later, dear,” she said, handing him a pile of freshly laundered washing.

“She can’t see me,” Louis explained and, sure enough, his mum didn’t as much as flinch at the sound of his voice. “Or, at least, she’s doing a marvellous job of ignoring me.”

“Hey, Mum,” Harry said, trying to make his voice sound like he wasn’t being followed by his once presumed dead best friend – he felt like he was succeeding quite well. “Are hallucinations common when you’re...? You know...” They hadn’t tried to name what Harry is, because if they diagnose it then his mum would feel like she should take him to a psychiatrist, which they _definitely_ can’t afford.

“Hmm... Maybe? Why, sweetheart, are you seeing things?”

“No, no!” Harry said quickly to assuage the worried look on her face. “I’m just curious, that’s all. I’ve been feeling loads better recently, anyway.” He neglected to mention that he thinks he was spiralling back down again.

“That’s great! How about a takeaway to celebrate?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m going for a shower, I’m all sweaty and stuff.” His mum beamed, which was not an expression he’d have expected to see at his admittance to being sweaty.

“I’ll call for a Chinese.” His mum bustled away, and Harry followed her towards the bathroom. As expected, Louis followed right behind him.

“All right,” Harry said, turning on the shower and sitting on the toilet to pull off his socks – Louis leaned against the sink. “What the hell is going on?”

“I am honest to God here and in front of you,” Louis said, demonstrating his tangibility by twisting the tap on and off. “Like, I’m real and stuff.”

“Oh, _good_ ,” Harry said sarcastically. “Because I’d hate to have to explain to your mum that I’m seeing her son but oh, he’s _not real_.”

“You can’t tell Mum,” Louis said hastily, standing up and looking vaguely panicked. Harry’s face softened, and Louis obviously took that to mean that he could continue. “I – I’m not supposed to be here, I don’t want to put her in danger.”

“And what, I’m fair game?” Harry asked bitterly, folding his arms.

“I need your help,” Louis replied bluntly, mirroring Harry’s stance. Even when they were kids, Harry had the habit of doing whatever Louis wanted of him, and he felt like he should err on the side of caution this one time.

“For _what_ , exactly?”

“It’s nothing major,” Louis explained, leaning back against the sink. “I need to stay with you for a bit, and you can’t go off on your own. Oh, also, I need to talk to the others.”

“Anything else?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Curly, you’re so _bitter_ , what happened to you?” Harry just looked at him pointedly. “Oh, right, yeah.”

“Whatever, just, come on, get out, I need to shower.”

***

“You do _what_ all day?” Louis asked disbelievingly, staring down at Harry, who had already nestled himself into his gaming chair, tying back his still damp fringe with a headband.

“I’m trying to beat my high score,” Harry said defensively, flicking on the Wii.

“It’s _Harvest Moon_ , there _is_ no high score!” Louis exclaimed, pacing back and forth across the carpet. “Jesus Christ, I know you fell apart, but this is bloody pathetic!” It was the first time anybody had actually called Harry out on his behaviour, and it actually succeeded in making some of the permanent guilt he felt fade away. “Call someone! Anyone! Go out! Do _something_!”

“I don’t have anyone _to_ call,” Harry said, starting up his load file. However, just as he said that, his phone started ringing – he stared at it like a rabbit in the headlights.

“Answer it,” Louis said, pointing.

“Hell no.”

“Answer it, or so help me I will, and I’ll hold it to your head until you speak.” Harry looked at the Caller ID – unknown number – and pressed ‘ok’ to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Harry! This is Harry, right? It’s Niall, mate, Niall Horan? We were friends when we were kids!” Harry pulled the phone away from his ear to blink at it perplexedly.

“It’s Niall,” he said to Louis, who lit up. When Harry brought the phone back to his ear, Niall was still talking. “...back in town, you want to meet up?”

“What’s he saying, what’s he _saying_?” Louis repeated, bouncing up and down on the spot.

“You want to meet up?” Harry said, mostly for Louis’s benefit, but there was a small part of him that wanted to confirm that Niall had actually said those words.

“Sure! I’m free right now, actually, you want to head down to the creek?” Harry stared at his game avatar, wondering whether playing Harvest Moon counted as being busy.

“Hell no,” Louis said exasperatedly, catching where Harry was looking. “Go out, I want to see Niall.”

“...Sure,” Harry said weakly. “Half an hour?”

“See you then!” Niall hung up, and Harry wasn’t sure whether he was happy or terrified. Probably both.

“How is Nialler then? What’s he been up to?” Louis asked, not pausing for answers between his questions. “I know you said you don’t talk to them anymore, but I know for a fact that you stalk their Facebook profiles, because we used to do that when we were kids to the girls we fancied.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly. “He travels a lot, so he doesn’t update his Facebook much – last I heard he was in Peru.”

“ _Peru_?” Louis asked incredulously. “Like, Peru, Peru?” As though this clarified things further.

“The country, yeah.”

Louis whistled through his teeth. “Blimey. Wonder if he’s got a tan.” He sniffed. “Put some deodorant on, then, let’s go catch up with Niall.”

“Can’t I cancel?” Harry asked desperately – Louis plucked his phone from his hand and stored it in his own jeans pocket.

“Absolutely not,” Louis said. “This will be good for you, I’ve never seen anyone so deprived of sunlight in all my life.” He picked up the deodorant can and sprayed Harry liberally with it; he took a deep sniff, spluttered, and then shrugged. “Better than the overwhelming stench of loser that was on you, anyway.”

***

Harry had expected Niall to have changed more than he actually had, but it was unmistakably Niall sitting at the edge of the water, paddling his feet in the shallow depths. He looked longer, broader in the shoulders, and maybe a little wearier in the face, but it was still the same grin, the exuberant wave of greeting, the bounce in his walk as he bounded over and enveloped Harry in a hug.

“Look at you!” He said excitedly, holding up his hand to shield his eyes as he looked up at Harry. “You’ve got all tall, what happened to the pipsqueak we all know and love?”

“‘s good to see you to, Nialler,” Harry said, patting Niall’s shoulder awkwardly. “How’ve you been?”

“Just got back from Asia, I’m in town for a few weeks, it’s my first time home in about... A year?” He replied, sounding unsure of just how long he’d been away. He flicked on his phone and showed Harry a photo of himself standing in front of a table, eating something out of a polystyrene container. “I’m gonna make the rounds, get the gang back together, I haven’t spoken to anyone in _ages_.” Louis coughed suddenly – Niall turned to look at him curiously. The curiosity turned into a bizarre mixture of horror and delight. “Holy _shit_.”

“Hi there,” Louis said, with the biggest shit-eating grin Harry had ever seen.

“ _Holy shit_!” Niall spluttered out a laugh, stumbled over to him, and threw his arms around Louis’s shoulders. “You’re – _holy shit_!”

“I broke Niall,” Louis said delightedly, swaying with the force of Niall’s hug. “Good to see you, man.”

“But – you’re dead!” Louis spread his arms wide, eyebrows high.

“Obviously not.”

“Where’ve you _been_?”

“Not important, Nialler, tell me about you.” The three of them sat down beside the river as Niall regaled them with stories of Asia, Harry trying not to gasp in awe at all the adventures he’d been on.

“But yeah, enough about me, tell me about you two!” Niall said eventually, after they’d all rolled up their sopping wet jeans to just below their knees.

“Well, Harry’s done jack shit with his life,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. “And I can’t tell you what I’ve been up to; you _literally_ would not believe it. I’m in town for a while, though, so I thought I’d stop by on you all.” Harry frowned; Louis had been deflecting those sorts of questions since he’d turned up, and Harry was pretty worried as to his reasons why.

“On us ‘all’? You stopping by on Zayn and Liam? I was gonna head there now, we can all go together!” Niall said excitedly; Harry winced. “What?”

“I don’t really... Talk to them anymore?”

“So? Neither do I, but this is an important occasion, Louis’s back! What’re they doing these days, anyway? I tried ringing them, but they’ve changed their numbers.” Harry’s knowledge on what his former friends were doing was limited to what they posted on their Facebook profiles – Zayn was studying at the more exclusive secondary school in the area, having transferred there for the start of his GCSEs, while Liam was at the one Harry had gone to, and they were apparently still reasonably good friends. They were both friends with each other on Facebook, anyway, which was more than they were with Harry. Harry relayed this information onto Niall. “Pfft, what boring tossers, still bothering with _school_. Do they still live in the same houses?” Harry shrugged, so Niall walked away, beckoning for them to follow – Louis threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders as they walked.

“See? Niall doesn’t hate you.”

“Niall doesn’t hate anyone,” Harry muttered. “And the sun’s probably gone to his head.”

“I can _hear_ you!”

***

No one answered when they trotted up to Liam’s door, Niall knocking on it smartly.

“We could go to Zayn’s?” Niall asked.

“Nah, wait a bit, he might turn up,” Louis replied; the three of them sat on the front doorstep, Louis pressing his side against Harry. He was surprisingly warm.

They’d been waiting for five minutes when a car pulled into the driveway and a tall boy clambered out, hauling a hefty rucksack with him.

“Oh yeah, most _normal_ people are at school,” Louis said pointedly, nudging Harry and Niall with his elbows; they rolled their eyes at him simultaneously.

“Um, hello? Do I know you?” The boy looked at them curiously – Harry flushed red, but Niall took it in his stride, waving happily.

“Hi Liam, long time no see!” Liam blinked, and then the knowledge of who was sitting on his doorstep seemed to hit him with the force of a truck, and he dropped his rucksack onto the kerb. His eyes flickered from Niall to Harry before settling on Louis. The sight of Louis seemed to break something in him – he backed away to his car, door opened and halfway into the car before yelling out

“Oh, sorry, just remembered that I’ve got, uh, something to do, see you later!” He slammed his car door shut and sped away, tires squealing with the effort.

“God _damn_ it,” Louis muttered, throwing himself dramatically against the floor, before rolling up to stand. “Why’s Liam got to be so _rational_ , why can’t he just accept the return of a presumed dead friend?”

“Oh, yeah, because accepting that is _such_ a desirable trait in a sane person,” Harry said sardonically, shuffling up to stand. “What now, we going to drop in on Zayn, too?”

“Might as well,” Niall said, shrugging and holding out his hands for Louis and Harry to pull on.

They tried Zayn’s house, but an elderly woman answered the door and told them she’d never even heard of him, making it obvious that he’d moved without their knowledge.

“He’s still in town though, right?” Niall asked, dropping down to sit on the kerb outside Zayn’s old house.

“I think so? He still goes to school around here – unless he boards?” Harry said.

“Worth a shot.”

Security at the school was surprisingly lax, and the boys made it to the dormitories with no problems at all – Niall pulled aside a boy that looked their age.

“Hey, you wouldn’t know a Zayn, would you? Zayn Malik?” The boy nodded.

“He’ll be in the library or his room, want me to take you?” Niall smiled and nodded happily, and somehow managed to strike up a conversation with him about football. Harry walked at Louis’s side, stealing glances at him every few seconds.

“I’m not going to _disappear_ , you know,” Louis said.

“Can’t really blame me for thinking otherwise, can you?” Harry muttered.

“Zayn, you in here?” The boy called, knocking on the door they’d come to a stop in front of.

“Yeah, just a min!” Unlike Niall, who looked virtually the same, the boy who opened the door was definitely not the Zayn Malik Harry had grown up with. He was a lot less awkward looking, and he had a bright blonde streak in the front of his hair. He eyed them with wary speculation. “Who’re you?”

“Niall, mate, and Harry, and-” Zayn stared at Louis, and then promptly slammed the door in their faces.

“Come on, you shit, I had to put up with this from Liam, I’m sick of your fuckers running off!” Louis shouted, pounding on the door.

“This isn’t _funny_!” Zayn called back, sounding slightly hysterical. “I don’t know if you’re pulling a prank on the weird, rich kid, but knock it _off_!”

“Zayn, open the door!” Niall yelled, joining Louis to bang on the door. “Zayn-” He opened the door, looking furious.

“What is your problem?” He hissed, pulling them into his room and locking the door behind him. “My housemates already think I’m weird, and now you’re _pummelling_ on my door, freaking me out with some lookalike-”

“I am offended that you think a face like this can be easily duplicated!” Louis said haughtily. “Now get that stick out of your arse and hug me because, funnily enough, I’ve actually missed your sorry mug.”

“I – prove it’s you,” Zayn said, folding his arms and glaring at them all. Louis sighed explosively.

“On your thirteenth birthday you had a sleepover.”

“So? These two could’ve told you that.”

“When everyone else was asleep you told me who you had a crush on, and unless you want me to announce it in present company, I suggest you give me my long overdue hug of welcome.” Louis raised his eyebrows challengingly – Zayn looked somewhat desperate when he turned to Niall and Harry.

“And you can see him too, right?”

“Yep.”

“He broke into my bedroom,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“ _Zayn_ , you’re still not hugging me-” Louis stopped complaining when Zayn wrapped his arms around Louis’s waist, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Missed you, bro.”

“Missed you, too.” They hugged silently for a few moments, then Zayn pulled away, his eyes tellingly damp.

“So, how’ve you all been?” He asked. Harry shrugged, not really wanting to go into his past few years. Louis gestured for Niall to speak.

“I’ve been travelling a bit. South America, Asia, you know. I’m off to Africa next, so I thought I’d pop back home, make sure everyone’s doing well, get some extra cash, you know. What’ve you been up to, anything interesting?”

“Studying, mainly,” Zayn replied, scratching the back of his head. “I’m doing a bit of research for my extended project qualification, it’s due soon, I need to be getting on with it really...”

“Oh, no problem – you want to meet up in the next few days? We’ll get Liam out, make it a proper party?” Zayn nodded. “Give us your number, then. Oh, and Liam’s, didn’t get a chance to ask him for it earlier.” Niall passed Zayn his phone, heavily battered and scratched, and Zayn keyed in the two numbers. They said their goodbyes; when Harry turned to wave again, Zayn was staring after them, his head tilted.

“Well,” Niall said. “That went better than I thought it would – at least he didn’t run off.”

“What now, Lou?” Harry asked.

“Now? I just hang around you lot,” he said, leaning against Harry and idly picking at his nails. “Not a lot else I can do, really.”

***

“I’m _bored_ ,” Louis said exasperatedly, several days later. Harry hadn’t bothered to leave his room in that time, figuring that trekking around town looking for old friends was enough socialisation to last him for the rest of the week, if not the month.

“Go out, then,” Harry replied, and if it was a touch spiteful, well, he couldn’t really be blamed. Louis had stayed permanently at his side, apparently not actually needing to sleep, or eat, or wash, or _anything_ other than talk incessantly, and Harry hadn’t had a good wank in _ages_. Louis chose to ignore him, instead opting for flopping onto the bed and kicking his feet above his head, like an upside-down bicycle.

“Have you got plans for the next, you know, _ever_?”

“Nope,” Harry said resolutely. “Just gonna stay in here, play my way through all the video games I can afford to buy, then-”

“Get a job? Like, I can imagine you as a pizza boy. Or a newspaper round! That’d be fun, we could roam the streets in the morning.”

“Hell no, I’ll just replay all the games again.”

“My _God_ I do not remember you being this dull when we were younger. Seriously, it was three years ago, even _I’m_ over it, and I have far more cause to be bitter.”

“Yes,” Harry said flatly, “but you haven’t had to put up with not knowing what happened to you for _three years_.”

“All right, point taken.” Louis sighed, rolling over onto his stomach. “Look, if you’re not going out, can you as least invite people in? I want to see the others, and I know you’ve been texting Niall, so don’t even _try_ to lie to me.”

“Didn’t you see how awkward it was? Hell no, I make a point of avoiding social interactions where I end up feeling like a complete pillock.”

“Make an exception, I’m _bored_!”

“The world doesn’t actually revolve around you.”

“Yours does,” Louis said, grinning smugly with his eyes squeezed shut. This hit a little closer to home than Harry felt comfortable with, but was also, unfortunately, true.

His phone rang.

“Oh, for the love of...” It was another unknown number. “Hello?”

“Um, hi, is... Is this the Styles residence?” The person on the other end was male, hesitant, and overly polite, but Harry, whose phone recognition skills were poor at best, had absolutely no idea who it was.

“Put it on speaker, put it on speaker!” Louis yelled, scrambling closer.

“Yeah?” Harry said, putting the phone on speaker and putting it on the floor so Louis could listen in too.

“Could I speak to Harry, please?”

“Who do you think you’re speaking to?”

“Right, yes, hello!”

“...Mate,” Harry said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I have no idea who this is.”

“Oh! It’s Liam, Liam Payne?”

“Oh, right, hi, Liam.” There was silence for a few moments, which Louis spent alternately rolling his eyes and staring at Harry disapprovingly.

“Um, actually, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour the other day? I didn’t want to be rude. Zayn gave me your number, said you were planning a get together, and I wanted to apologise before then...”

“Yeah?” Harry said uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond – Louis slapped his forehead.

“Yeah... So, what’s the occasion? Do I need to bring a present?”

“What? No, Niall just wants to see us all before he goes away again.”

“Ah, right, okay.” Another long, awkward silence, during which Louis covered his face and screamed into his hands. “Huh?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harry said when Louis mouthed ‘don’t say it was me, he’ll hang up’.

“I thought  - oh, wait, have you got me on speaker?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“I thought I heard a noise on your end, but it was probably just the playback from the speaker. Wait, why’ve you got me on speaker?”

“I’m... knitting.”

“...Knitting.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent, Styles, remind me to count on you if I ever need a good liar,” Louis said wryly, picking up the phone and tossing it from hand to hand.

“Hey, give over, you prat,” Harry said, launching himself at Louis and pinning him down by his wrists easily.

“What?” Liam, poor Liam, sounded confused out of his mind.

“I, it’s my cat, she... stole my phone?” Louis actually laughed at that, loud and sudden, and Harry grinned down at him.

“Right... I should probably go anyway, I’ll see you later?” He hung up quickly, and Louis just laughed even harder.

“Oh, man,” he managed to get out eventually, wheezing for breath. “That was without a doubt the most painful thing I’ve ever had to witness!”

“I’ve always been shit on the phone!”

“Not with me, you weren’t!”

“Yeah, but you’re different.” It didn’t escape Harry that he was using the present tense, nor that he was still pinning Louis to the floor and, judging by Louis’s expression, it hadn’t escaped his notice either. Harry rolled off him, lying next to him on the floor.

“Oh,” Louis said suddenly. “I had this dream last night that I was running through a field of dandelion clocks.”

“ _I_ had a dream that this gigantic lummox of a boy jumped on me last night while I was trying to sleep – oh, no, wait, that actually _happened._ ” Louis snorted with delight. “Wait, I thought you didn’t need to sleep?”

“I don’t, really, but it passes the time, because staring at you for hours on end is really boring. Besides, I’m hoping my dreams will reveal something really important about my path, but it’s just been loads of tunnels, really boring stuff.”

“Probably a deep insight into your psyche, actually, you know what they always say about dream tunnels,” Harry said, winking lewdly. Louis gasped in mock indignation, pressing a hand to his heart and fluttering his eyelashes.

“Harry Styles you are _impeding_ my _virtue_!”

“What virtue?”

“Point.” They were lying on the floor, staring at each other lazily, when there was a knock on Harry’s bedroom door.

“Yeah, Mum?”

“Not your mum, mate,” Niall said, bursting in like a hurricane, carrying two boxes of pizza. “Does Louis eat? Do you eat?” He looked at Louis. “You didn’t mention, ‘cause Harry said you don’t need sleep, so I just brought two pizzas, so you two can share if you _do_ eat.”

“Hi Niall,” Harry said as Niall settled down next to them on the floor, while Louis settled for a fist bump to his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“A guy needs an excuse to drop in on his friends?” Niall asked innocently, passing Harry one of the boxes. “Why’re we lying on the floor, anyway?” Harry and Louis shrugged, and this seemed to be answer enough. “Although, I’ll admit, I had an idea on my way over, but that can come after the pizza.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Louis said, picking up a piece of pizza and flinging it at Niall’s face.

“If that’s supposed to be a punishment,” Niall replied, gesturing to his tomato covered face. “Then you’ve _seriously_ lost your touch, Tommo.”

They polished off the pizza quickly, Louis picking at the slices of pepperoni idly – “I can eat,” he explained “I just feel full anyway, so I don’t really need to” – and then Harry and Louis turned to Niall expectantly.

“We need to get Liam and Zayn in the same room as the three of us without anyone calling it off,” he said.

“That was it? _That_ was your plan?” Louis asked incredulously.

“Hey, I came over to bring pizza, not to make plans, this was an impromptu thing!” Niall replied, waving his hands above his head.

“Wait, now?” Harry asked, already wanting to curl up in his bed. “Why _now_?”

“No time like the present, Haz,” Niall said, pulling out his phone and dialling. “Ah, Payner, listen – what, no, Zayn gave me your number. Look, you need to meet us at that cafe off the high street – what do you mean it’s closed? Uh huh. Uh _huh_. Great, half an hour. Kay.” As soon as he had hung up he was dialling another number. “Hi, Zayn, stop reading for a sec and meet us at some place called Cafe Blanc. Your homework can wait. Yeah. Yeah, he is, I already asked. Okay, half an hour.” He hung up and immediately turned to Harry. “Did _you_ know they’d closed Jo’s Attic?”

“Yeah?” He hadn’t, but he didn’t have a justifiable reason for _not_ knowing that their favourite childhood hangout had been closed, not like Niall.

“Can’t believe it, now we’ve gotta go to some place with overpriced, shitty coffee. I tell you, once you taste South American coffee, no other drink compares. Hi, Anne!” He said cheerfully to Harry’s mum, who waved back.

“Oh, are you two going out? Have fun, boys!”

“Lou,” Harry asked, once they were out of the house. “Why can’t my Mum see you?”

“I’d rather people not see me, if I can help it,” he said evasively, taking a bite of the slice of pizza he’d taken with him. “Puts less people in danger-”

“Mummy, Mummy, _look_!” A toddler walking past pointed to the pizza Louis that was holding. “Magic!”

“Yes, dear, aren’t those boys clever?” The boy’s mother said, beaming. “Where’s your collection tin, boys, that’s some fantastic sleight of hand.” Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but Niall seemed to, pulling off his baseball cap and holding it out to her, tilted upside down.

“No tin yet, m’afraid,” he said, grinning disarmingly as the mother put a few coins in his hat. “Seeing if there’s any interest first. Have a nice day now!”

“What was that all about?” Harry asked curiously as the mother and child walked away.

“She thought we were street performers, magicians?” Niall said, tipping the coins into his hand. “Levitating pizza and all that, from their perspective, what with Lou making himself invisible to everyone. Blimey, Lou, could’ve done with your help abroad, magic always does better than busking.”

“You busked?” Louis asked, looking impressed.

“Sure, earned me enough to get me to a soup kitchen each night,” Niall replied. He clapped his hands together decisively, and Harry subconsciously noticed that the few coins had gone.

***

The coffee wasn’t overpriced (but was pretty shitty), so Harry and Louis split a coffee and a croissant, while Niall just glared at his coffee, which apparently tasted ‘stale’. Harry hadn’t even known you could _get_ stale coffee.

The first to arrive was Liam, still in his school uniform; black jumper, black trousers, white shirt, red tie.

“Li!” Niall stood up, waving him over. “Come sit down and have my coffee, I spent two quid on it and I demand that it doesn’t go to waste, even though it tastes like sheep’s bollocks.” The barista gave him a very dirty look, which he ignored.

“How are you both?” Liam said placidly, taking a sip of the proffered cappuccino as he sat down. Louis rolled his eyes, sighed explosively, and kicked the table petulantly, almost causing Harry’s latte to tip over the croissant. “Didn’t get to talk to you much when I last saw you.”

“Not to worry,” Niall said easily, counting his cash on the table. “We’re not leaving for a while this time, so we have plenty of time to talk.” Liam looked wary, but before he could ask further questions, Niall was up on his feet again, doing his manic wave. “Zayner!” Zayn was also wearing his school uniform, a dark brown blazer, tan pants, and a white and navy tie – Harry half expected him to pull out a straw hat from his leather satchel.

“Don’t say a word about the blazer,” Zayn said dangerously, pointing his finger at each of them in turn. It was his indignation that set Louis off, laughing raucously – Zayn rolled his eyes, which set Niall snickering, and Harry only just managed to hold back a laugh, twisting and puckering his mouth.

“Well, it’s nice that _Zayn_ isn’t ignoring me,” Louis said pointedly, kicking his feet up onto the table.

“Wait, who’s ignoring you?” Zayn asked – Louis, Harry and Niall turned to stare at Liam, who was looking horrified.

“You – you _all_ see him?” Liam said, going porridge pale. He shook his head, eyes closed – when he opened them, he looked desperately frantic. “He’s _dead_! He’s been dead for years, we all need to move on and get counselling! I get it, I miss him too, but this, this... delusion isn’t _healthy_!”

“Nice,” Louis said bitterly, righting his chair and slumping into it; Harry squeezed his knee comfortingly.

“And stop moving that chair around, it’s like watching one of those terrible ghost hunting shows,” Liam snapped.

“Anyone got a pen?” Louis asked, pulling the little pile of napkins towards him – Zayn pulled out a fountain pen from his satchel. Louis raised his eyebrows, but seemed to choose not to comment. He started scribbling furiously – Harry just caught sight of the first line, ‘On the night before I disappeared you were still awake at Harry’s sleepover and I told you’ before Louis shielded the rest with his arm, frowning. When he was finally done, he folded the napkin up neatly, and slid it over the table – Liam stared at it.

“Take the damn napkin, Li,” Zayn said, so Liam did, unfolding it and reading it with increasing interest.

“I thought... I thought it might’ve been sleight of hand, but there’s stuff in here that none of you could possibly know...”

“What does Liam know that I don’t?” Harry asked indignantly.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it,” Louis said, ruffling Harry’s hair.

“Unless... Unless we’re _all_ just seeing things?” Liam asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

Louis sighed, snatched up another napkin, crumpled it up, and tossed it at Liam’s forehead.

“I’m convinced,” Zayn said, raising his hand.

“But why here? Why _now_?” Liam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“I, yeah, why now?” Zayn asked.

“You don’t need to know, just that I’m safe, and that I’ll be hanging around you all for a while,” Louis said.

“Hey, wait, so it _wasn’t_ a hallucination?” Zayn said suddenly, eyes widening – Louis looked mildly horrified.

“What wasn’t a hallucination?” Niall said hastily, as Louis seemed likely to attempt a conversation change any time soon.

“When I was sixteen,” Zayn said, leaning forward and staring at Louis. “I _saw_ you in my dorm room. You were just pacing back and forth, and then you saw me looking at you and you vanished. I just thought I’d had too much caffeine, but now I’m not so sure.” He pulled out, of all things, a sketchpad and a stick of charcoal. “You were wearing a hood over your face, but it was definitely you, and you were wearing a cloak,” he said, the clothes blossoming on the page as he deftly sketched his descriptions. “You were all in black. Oh, and you were carrying a gun, too.”

“That seems like a pretty large detail to just drop in at the end,” Liam said, leaning closer to watch as Zayn drew a gun the length of Sketch Louis’s arm. Zayn shrugged, rummaging through his satchel for a mechanical pencil.

Harry leaned over the table to watch Zayn work, Niall mimicking his action on his other side. The Louis he was drawing looked _dangerous_ , was the thing, all sharp angles and grit and... Suffering, if that could translate into a drawing. He couldn’t really reconcile it with the Louis sat next to him, wearing a soft jumper and no socks under his shoes.

But, then, why would Zayn have any cause to lie about what he’d seen?

“Are you _sure_ it was Lou?” Niall asked, apparently dubious as well. “Doesn’t really look like him.” The look Zayn levelled on him was enough to make much stronger men back away, so Harry couldn’t really blame Niall when he curled up away from Zayn’s death glare.

“I think I can recognise one of my best friends,” Zayn said coolly, looking back down at his sketch and adding details to the gun.

“All right, yes, that was me, but can you believe me when I say it’s much better if you all _don’t_ ask what I’ve been doing? Can we do that?” Louis said, glancing at the sketch and scrunching his nose up.

***

It had been blisteringly hot, the day Niall had been set to leave their tiny hometown for the first time. He was starting small, hitchhiking across Europe at the start of his summer holidays after year eleven, but there was a big difference between living around the corner and living in a stranger’s van in the Netherlands, so Harry managed to talk himself into paying Niall a farewell visit.

“Ah, Harry, just the bloke I wanted to see – come sit on my suitcase to help me close it,” Niall said by way of greeting, opening the door to let him in. The great thing about Niall was that he never said things like ‘Didn’t expect to see _you_ out and about’ or ‘Look, it emerges!’ so Harry didn’t have to feel constantly on guard.

Niall kept up a flow of friendly chatter, long accustomed to Harry’s perpetual silence. “Heading to France first, obviously, closest country and that, and then I’m heading north to avoid this _heat_ , should be back in the south when it starts getting colder.” They were both sitting on Niall’s suitcase, tugging the zip underneath their legs. “You ever feel like meeting up just let my folks know, they’ll get a message to me and I can wait for you, wherever I am.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks,” Harry said hoarsely; Niall shrugged, as though he didn’t really mind either way.

When Niall finally got onto the train to take him to Dover, his beaming face through the window was the last Harry saw of him until the day by the brook.


	2. Zayn

The thing was, Zayn didn’t have many friends at his school, utilising the rare definition of ‘not many’ as to mean ‘any at all’. He’d come to the school too late, everyone had already formed their friendship groups, and no one had room for the kid with the haunted eyes. It was no one’s _fault_ , exactly – his parents had suggested a change of scenery would be healthy, and he’d agreed with them as, apparently, had most of his old friends. Louis had been Missing-And-Or-Dead, Harry had dropped out of school within three months of Louis disappearing, and Niall barely even _came_ to school, just enough to not arouse too much suspicion, and Liam – well.

Liam had been great, at first, and Zayn had genuinely thought he’d be able to hold the four of them together. But then, it hadn’t been fair to lumber the grief of four fifteen year old boys onto one boy’s shoulders, and it had only been natural for him to eventually distance himself as much as possible.

So, with one missing friend, two who were never at school, and one who treated him like a polite stranger, Zayn had gladly accepted the transference to the nearby private school, and they’d even offered him a part scholarship. But then his parents had had to move, so he’d ended up boarding at this school, with no friends, no family, and a nearby library of thousands of books to lose himself in.

So he had.

He read everything he could get his hands on, so when his English Literature A Level class were being gently immersed into Austen and Brontë, he was devouring Spencer and Chaucer in his spare time. It didn’t exactly endear him to the other students.

But he’d gotten by, and he’d accepted that he was probably the type to bloom in university, or maybe in the work environment.

So, he’d never predicted that he’d be one day sitting in the refurbished version of his old haunt with his four best friends, discussing his drawing skills.

“But that gun doesn’t even look _practical_ ,” Liam said. “It’s too long and thin, for one, what use is that?” Zayn watched Niall lean in to Harry and whisper in his ear, and Zayn could pretty much guarantee his comment involved the words ‘said’, ‘she’, ‘that’s’, and ‘what’, alphabetised for easier categorisation.

“That’s _exactly_ what it looked like!” Zayn said indignantly, looking again at his drawing. The gun _was_ long and thin, yes, but Zayn rather thought that Liam was missing the bigger picture – namely that Louis had been in his room, two years ago, wearing a cloak and _carrying a gun_.

“I thought we’d agreed to drop this,” Louis said stiffly, his lips pressed together into a fake smile.

“No, we agreed not to ask you any questions,” Niall pointed out. “It’s like how the Dungeon Master can’t help out the players, so the players discuss strategies amongst themselves.”

“I – what?” Harry asked curiously.

“I played Dungeons and Dragons in Germany,” Niall explained with an airy wave, as though this statement didn’t actually complicate things further.

“You don’t speak German, how could you play a  _roleplaying game_ in German?” Liam asked, frowning.

“You learn pretty quickly when pasty kids are shouting at you about _Die H_ _öhlen von Draconis_ ,” Niall said, with a fairly good German accent.

“You have no right to call _anyone_ pasty,” Zayn said – true enough, despite having spent several years abroad, Niall was about as tanned as a pot of hummus.

“Ey, not my fault!”

“ _Look_ ,” Louis said exasperatedly, standing up. “Let me put this into a perspective you daft twats can understand.” He stole Zayn’s fountain pen, and smoothed out a napkin onto the table, drawing a horizontal line across it. “Let’s call this the sliding scale of pain and misery. Here,” he drew a check mark at the beginning. “Is where Harry has been residing. Leaving his room occasionally, he’s been at risk from various things such as carpal tunnel and carpet burn. Here’s Zayn and Liam, respectively,” he continued, drawing two checkmarks very close to each other a centimetre away from Harry’s. “Liam’s slightly higher because he drives, and might drive into a lamppost. Here’s Niall.” He placed the next checkmark at the very end of the napkin. “Because he’s been living with strangers and eating nothing but soup and Pot Noodle for two years, and he could’ve been initiated by some intense German Dungeons and Dragons players and we’d have never known otherwise.”

“What is this supposed to tell us?” Zayn asked, somewhat indignant that he was all the way at the bottom, beaten out only by Harry.

“I’m not _finished_ , yet.” He pulled the other napkins towards him, lining them up around the table in a spiral that had the barista’s eye twitching. Once he’d spiralled them to the middle he, very carefully, continued his line, drawing a mark at the very end of it. “On this end is where you will end up if you don’t all keep your heads down for the next few weeks, I swear to God.”

“So, you’ll tell us at the end of the next few weeks?” Harry asked, leaning in to Louis.

“What? Yes, fine, sure, if you keep yourselves out of the way.”

***

The thing was, it was very difficult to keep oneself out of the way of something that you couldn’t identify, so Zayn did what he always did – after making hazy plans with the others to meet up in the next few days, he sloped off to the town library, hands deep in his trouser pockets and head bent low, smoking surreptitiously on his cigarette. He wasn’t _really_ supposed to smoke while in uniform, it set a ‘bad public image’, but he’d been gagging for one for hours, and had honestly done well to hold out that long. The walk from Cafe Blanc to the town library was long enough for Zayn to smoke the cigarette, and he was stamping it underfoot just as he came to the library steps.

Going to the library was, in Zayn’s mind, an art form to be perfected – you couldn’t just waltz in and expect the library to yield results. You had to start gently, by bringing your own books, getting accustomed to the library space, and then branching out – starting with novels, moving onto poetry and plays, reading bibliographies to see if the library had that book, until you eventually found yourself reading a photograph book on the wonders of Pompeii. It was a lot like Wikipedia, but a lot more rewarding – you were physically searching for the information yourself, not just relying on a few strokes of the keyboard.

Finding a place to sit that eventually became ‘his’ had taken a lot of work – originally he’d begun by sitting in the newspaper corner, but that had ended badly when a young teenager had realised he was a regular, and continued to sit in the seat next to his. This wasn’t a bad thing, but she asked incessant questions, and he didn’t go to the library to make friends.

So he’d moved to the silent study zone, but then he’d felt guilty taking the seat from the pale, panicked looking university students, clutching coffee cups and change for the printer in bony hands that twitched and shook from caffeine and exhaustion.

Eventually, Zayn had found a seat very similar to those found in primary schools, and he’d dragged it into the farthest, darkest corner, nestled amongst the Local History section, and he was only ever bothered by the librarian, who came to deposit a book with him every time he came in. Today’s was the selected works of Housman.

He was rereading ‘ _When I would muse in boyhood_ ’ when a shadow fell over him. He sighed, because the shadow was too big to be the five foot librarian. Maybe if he didn’t look up, the intruder would go away.

No such luck. “You’ll strain your eyes, sat back here.”

“I haven’t yet, so-” Zayn looked up, and blinked. “Liam?” There was a time, once, when he’d have been able to pick out Liam’s voice in a crowd of thousands, and now he couldn’t even recognise it in a silent corner of a dusty library. “What’re you... How did you know I was here?” It might’ve been a trick of the light (doubtful), but Liam looked like he was blushing.

“I followed you in my car, actually. Is that weird? I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted a lift back to the school, then you came in here, so I waited outside, but you took _ages_ , so I came in and looked for you, but you’ve hidden yourself pretty well, I must’ve walked past you about eight times, so the librarian asked if I was looking for anything in particular, and I said ‘actually, I’m looking for my friend Zayn’, so she pointed out where you sat.” He took a deep breath.

“Um, thanks for the offer, but I don’t need a lift, you’re all right.” Zayn looked up at Liam expectantly, waiting for him to leave. Liam, unfortunately, didn’t seem to take the hint – he sat down on the floor, legs crossed. Zayn felt like he was a primary school teacher, about to do a dramatic reading of ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’.

“What’re you reading?” Liam asked, sounding genuinely interested; Zayn tilted the cover of the book up slightly. “What, poetry? Why?”

“Because if you limit yourself to reading just one thing, you’re missing out on so many great things; like, okay here, read this one,” Zayn said, passing Liam the book.

Liam read very _earnestly_. He scrunched up his forehead and tilted his head closer to the page, and Zayn found himself nervous for Liam’s opinion. He always did, when it came to sharing his favourite things.

“I... I don’t really understand it? It rhymes really prettily, though!” Liam said, passing back the book a few moments later. In all honesty, Zayn hadn’t even _noticed_ the rhyme scheme.

“It’s about friendship,” Zayn said quietly, looking at the page, and then back up at Liam. “The narrator used to dream about finding friends, really _good_ friends, not love or adventure or whatever, and then he finds them and he loses pieces of himself to them, and then he loses them.”

“How did you get that from-” Liam bent over the book to count the lines. “Sixteen lines?”

“Okay, I’ll show you, you’ve got to read it properly, there’s a knack to reading poetry.” He read it aloud under his breath, just loud enough for Liam to hear.

“Oh, it makes a lot more sense when you say it,” Liam said sheepishly. “I was pausing after each line, it was like reading loads of little fragments.”

“That’s because that’s what you were doing,” Zayn replied, grinning slightly and nudging Liam’s knee with his toe.

“The poem’s kind of like us, isn’t it?” Liam said quietly. Zayn frowned.

“Not yet, it’s not.” Liam looked up, surprised. “You never lost me.”

“You know, I kind of don’t deserve a friend like you,” Liam said thoughtfully, and Zayn knew that they were still friends, even after years of not speaking – you couldn’t just erase friends like _that_ that simply. “Like, I gave up on everyone, I stopped trying to help Harry and Niall and you-”

“To be fair, Li, we all stopped trying to help each other,” Zayn said fairly. “And the three of us definitely tried to lumber you with a lot of our stresses – well, me and Niall did, Harry sort of dropped out of commission.”

“I’m still worried about him,” Liam said, biting his lip. “I’m not sure Louis coming back is going to be a good thing for him.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well, Harry’s been coasting – we all have, but Harry’s been... Well. Anyway, Louis’s been hinting that he’s not planning on sticking around for long, just until whatever this danger is has passed, and I don’t think Harry’s going to be able to take it when Louis leaves again.”

Louis and Harry had always been co-dependent, more so than was probably natural, and Zayn could see where Liam was coming from. However, he could also see the way that Harry had _improved_ , so much, just in the short time Louis had been with him.

“What do you suggest we do?” Zayn asked, putting Housman on the pile of books he was already planning on checking out of the library, and getting up to leave.

“Not a lot we _can_ do,” Liam replied, ungraciously hauling himself up off the floor. “Just wait to see if he needs to talk to someone.”

***

This, apparently, came late at night on Tuesday evening – or, actually, early on Wednesday morning. Zayn had a paper due on Thursday, which he’d been frantically writing all night, and he’d just finished to a standard where he hadn’t written ‘The author uses imagery otherwise the novel would suck’ and had been asleep for half an hour when his phone rang, lighting up the room and filling it with the dulcet tones of tinny beeping.

“Eh-lo?” Zayn croaked.

“Zayn? Shit, Zayn, can you come over?”

“Haz? It’s...” Zayn used his phone to illuminate the clock on the wall, peering at it, before remembering there was a clock _on_ his phone. “Five to four.”

“Shit, I forgot you’d be asleep.” Zayn decided that Harry forgetting typical sleeping hours was probably something to question another day.

“Haz, what’s wrong?”

“Well, Louis’s spending the night at Niall’s, and – no, never mind, I’m sure it’s nothing, you go back to sleep.” Harry hung up.

The thing about boarding school was that, while they didn’t _approve_ of students making a break for it at 4am, the teachers always stuck to pre-planned patrol routes, which, while seemingly impossible to get past, were actually easy to avoid with a little know how and luck. Zayn’s know how came from a map of the school and several heart racing expeditions following teachers and plotting their routes with different coloured highlighters. It was almost like a video game, where you had to secretly follow an NPC without them spotting you.

Zayn’s luck came from having a room on the ground floor with a window that backed onto the school playing field, which none of the teachers bothered to patrol.

It took him ten minutes to jog from his bedroom window to Harry’s house; he knocked on the door softly, which was answered by a young woman that Zayn recognised to be Gemma. She left the chain on the door, peering out worriedly.

“Can I help?”

“Sorry, uh, I’m Zayn, Zayn Malik?” She opened the door properly, staring at him as though she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

“I think I drank too much Red Bull, I’m hallucinating my kid brother’s little friends, and I’m hallucinating them as _hot_ ,” she muttered, much to Zayn’s discomfort. She shook her head. “Harry’s probably playing video games, go right on in, but keep it down, Mum’s sleeping and I’m trying to study.”

Zayn hadn’t been in Harry’s bedroom for years, but it hadn’t really changed much – in fact, the only things that _had_ changed were the bed sheets and the gaming consoles. Harry himself was sitting on the floor, staring at the wall – he jerked his head up.

“Oh, you came,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Course I did,” Zayn replied, sitting down next to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder; Harry nestled in. “What’s up?”

“I think I’m seeing things,” Harry said, very quietly, as though admitting it too loud would make it seem scarier.

“What?”

“There were these girls at my bedroom window,” Harry said, jerking his thumb. “Just looking in, then they disappeared. But I’m on the first floor, girls can’t just look in! So then I got to thinking, what if I’ve just been hallucinating all of you lot, and I’m actually just sitting alone in my room right now, talking to myself – _ow_!”

“Could a hallucination do that?” Zayn said, pinching his side again. “Besides, didn’t Louis climb in through your bedroom window?”

“He told me he shuffled up the drainpipe,” Harry said.

“...Do you _have_ a drainpipe conveniently leading up to your window?” Harry shrugged, so Zayn stood up, opened the window wide, and stuck his head out. “No, you don’t. Unless Louis carries a drainpipe around with him, I’d venture that he’s lying.”

“But... Why would he lie?”

“I don’t know,” Zayn replied, frowning. “I’ll think about it. Now, tell me more these girls.”

“Uh, they were dressed in black, like, cloaks and stuff, so I couldn’t really see their faces. So you _don’t_ think I’m hallucinating?”

“Honestly? I think this is something a little more dangerous than hallucinations.”

Zayn stayed the night at Harry’s – he and a boy in his class, James, had an agreement to cover for each other if they skipped classes, so he didn’t really have to worry about getting back until later. Harry lent him a copy of _Emma_ , and promptly curled up with his head in Zayn’s lap. Zayn, no longer tired after a late night jog through the cold, stayed awake, carding his hand through Harry’s curls.

This was how Louis found them, early on Wednesday morning, scrambling in through the window.

“Question,” Zayn said smoothly, making Louis jump. “Just how, _exactly_ , do you get in through the window?” Louis blinked, obviously surprised, before arranging his features into confused friendliness.

“Up the drainpipe? Honestly, Zayn, how else would you-”

“Get in through the window? I was hoping you could tell me, honestly, considering there isn’t a drainpipe leading up to Harry’s window.”

Louis scowled. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

“Funny story, actually. Harry rang me, panicking, because two girls in cloaks were staring at him through the window.”

“You’re _shitting_ me.”

“Uh, no, I’d be panicking too if two girls were-”

“No, not that!” Louis paced around the bedroom, looking terrified out of his mind. “They weren’t supposed to come _already_ , and they _definitely_ weren’t meant to come here, I – _shit_!”

“Louis, you need to tell us what’s going on,” Zayn said firmly, trying to keep his head – if, whatever this was, was scaring _Louis_ , then they were in a lot more trouble than Zayn had guessed.

“ _No_ ,” Louis protested, stopping his pacing to glare at Zayn. “You’d be in too much-” Harry snuffled in his sleep, and Louis promptly quietened, staring at Harry worriedly.

“Lou, we’re in danger anyway, aren’t we?” Zayn guessed shrewdly.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, I just have to work harder, that’s all.”

“What’re you going to tell him?” Zayn said, looking down at the sleeping Harry in his lap.

“That whoever they are, they’re gone now.”

“Lying to him probably won’t help anything.”

“It’s only for a few weeks,” Louis said, looking weary. “I can do this for a few weeks, I’ve done it before.”

***

“Super Peace Busters meeting,” Zayn said down the phone, toeing off his trainers as he entered his dorm room.

“Blimey, haven’t heard _that_ phrase in a while, must be important,” Niall joked.

“Just turn up, you loser,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes.

“Where?” Liam said.

“Usual place – don’t tell Louis or Harry, we need to keep Louis away and we’re not going to do that if we get Harry out.”

***

Cafe Blanc was not perfect, but it did have one minor benefit – the new owner hadn’t bought new furniture, so the table by the window still had each of their names carved under the table where they always sat – when Zayn ran his fingers under the wood, he could just make out the angular scratches of his own name in all capitals.

“You sounded pretty worried on the phone,” Liam said, sipping his coffee, the only one of them who’d bothered to buy a drink – both Zayn and Niall had stuck to the cakes. “What happened?”

Zayn briefly explained the events of the previous night and that morning, before going on to outline his suspicions. “If he’s lying to _Harry_ , then it’s something really serious, and probably dangerous – maybe he’s in a gang?”

“You did see him with a gun,” Liam pointed out.

Niall rolled his eyes. “This is _Tommo_ we’re talking about, right? Can we honestly see him in a gang?”

“Why else would he be acting so weird?”

“I’m sorry;” they all looked up – two girls were standing behind them; the one speaking looked polite and sheepish, the other looked horrendously bored. “But are you talking about Louis Tomlinson?”

“Uh, yeah?” Zayn said warily – the friendlier looking girl smiled wide.

“We know him! We’re good friends of his. Or, well-” She laughed. “As good a friend you can be of Louis Tomlinson! I’m-” The girls stiffened, turning their heads simultaneously to the window. “Actually, can this wait? We need to go.” They walked away, but turned back just as they got to the door.

“Well?” The other said, folding her arms. “You coming, or what?”

“We’re not seriously going with them, are we?” Zayn hissed incredulously as both Niall and Liam stood up to leave.

“They seem nice enough?” Liam said, shrugging. “And they know Louis, they might be able to tell us what he’s been up to?”

The girls had veered off down an alleyway – Zayn was just beginning to entertain thoughts of making a run for it, maybe call the police, when they put disappeared in coloured puffs of smoke.

“Oh, incredible, amateur magicians,” Zayn said sarcastically. “How truly wonderful.”

However, the girls hadn’t disappeared. Instead, they were now wearing thick black cloaks – one of them, the one that had been smiley and friendly, was holding (of all things) spools of ribbon in each hand, while the other was wielding a spear that was longer than her entire body.

“We’re all going to _die_ ,” Niall said, sounding more amused than terrified.

“Stay here,” Spear Girl said, glaring at each of them in turn and pointing the spear in their direction. It looked pretty heavy, but she was moving it as though it only weighed a few pounds. “You’re being hunted. Danielle’ll keep an eye on you.” And with that she _jumped_ , and Zayn felt like he needed to sit down, because humans couldn’t _jump_ that high.

“So, I’m Danielle,” Ribbon Girl – Danielle – said, smiling friendlily at them, pulling her hood down. She was bright eyed and lively, and Zayn felt like he _could_ trust her- if, you know, her and her friend weren’t so distinctly off-putting. “You’re probably pretty scared right now, but I can explain-”

“Oh, now we’re resorting to _kidnapping_?” The four of them whipped their heads to look to the end of the alleyway – Louis was standing there, cloak-clad and gun wielding, looking like he wanted nothing more than to blast the head off the girl.

“What? No!”

“Then what’re _they_ doing here?”

“You’ve been so busy keeping us occupied on your silly goose chases that you’ve really slacked off on the Wraith front, and these lot seem to be like bait to fish – there’s a whole crowd of them the next street over, Eleanor’s gone to head them off.” Danielle smiled at Louis sympathetically. “Why didn’t you just tell them, they could help-”

“ _No_. I made that mistake before, not again.” Louis ripped his hood back to stare at each of them. “Have you told them anything?”

“You interrupted story time,” Danielle replied placidly. “As you’re so intent to keep these boys in the dark, what _shall_ I tell them? They’ve already seen the Magical Transformation Sequence.” It was jarring, hearing someone who had been nothing but friendly and bubbly so far, suddenly twist into sarcasm and bitterness.

“Use your common sense.” One minute he was there and the next he was gone.

“There was something in that fucking coffee,” Liam said weakly, rubbing his face. “Either that or I’m dead.”

“Unfortunately not,” Danielle replied, drawing her cloak underneath her and taking a seat on the tarmac, gesturing for them to do the same. “Trust me, death would be a kinder fate than what you are about to endure.”

“Sounds cheerful,” Niall said.

“Myself, Eleanor, and Louis, along with dozens others, are part of an organisation that hunts beings called Wraiths,” Danielle began, checking to see that she had their attention so far. “In exchange for promising to fight these Wraiths, we are granted special powers to do so.”

“Where do I sign up?” said Niall; Danielle shook her head.

“It is not as romantic as it sounds – it’s very lonely, being a Wraith Hunter. There is no time for school, or friends, or family – you give up all these things.”

“Then... Why would you do it?” Zayn asked, frowning as he tried to understand the benefits, besides weapons and cloaks.

“Because the person who grants us our powers also grants us one wish.”

“What, like, ‘I wish to go to Disneyland’ deals?”

Danielle smiled. “Let me give you an example – when I was a little girl, I was in a terrible accident, which left me paralysed from the waist down. Even if I miraculously healed, I’d never be able to walk more than a few steps, because my muscles didn’t get a chance to grow and develop properly.

“I always wanted to be a dancer,” she continued wistfully. “And people always used to say ‘It’s amazing what you can do in a wheelchair’, but I didn’t want to do that, I didn't want their pitiful admiration, I wanted to be... Anyway, when The Boss happened upon me one day, they asked if I’d be willing to fight evil in exchange for one wish, so I said yes, and wished to be able to walk and dance again.”

“But...” Liam tilted his head. “Is that worth not being able to have family or friends?”

“Oh, you misunderstand me – you _can_ have those things, we just choose not to,” Danielle said. “Our jobs are very dangerous, and many of us have seen loved ones get hurt because of it. But I have friends – Eleanor and Louis, and there’s a group of very nice girls the next town over that I meet up with on slow days...”

“So what did Eleanor and Louis wish for?” Zayn asked.

“I promised Eleanor I would never reveal her wish, and Louis... I don’t actually know! He has been a Hunter for a long time, far longer than me, and he’s not exactly talkative about it. Or about anything except you lot. Speaking of which, who’s who?”

“I’m Liam, that’s Niall, and that’s Zayn.” They all waved at the mention of their names.

“No Harry?” She laughed. “Louis speaks about Harry a lot, especially by his standards. He is very fond and protective of him, which is why he’s been trying to fend Eleanor and I off. He doesn’t want Harry to be in danger – in fact, I’m surprised he came back at all-”

“-was _fine_ , didn’t need you charging in with your guns blazing!” Came a highly snarky shout from around the corner. The reply was even more sarcastic, and even louder.

“Oh, _right_ , sorry, you just looked like you were going to get _eaten_. Totally fine.” Louis and Spear Girl, Eleanor, rounded the corner, arguing bitterly and no longer carrying their highly intimidating weapons.

“If you hadn’t been so busy playing _house_ you’d have been keeping on top of your duty, and I wouldn’t have nearly _got_ eaten, would I?” She shook her head. “Honestly, Lou, you’re trying to hide them from The Boss, but they’re gonna come looking if people start _dying_.”

“It’s only for a couple weeks,” Louis muttered, looking somewhat contrite.

“Lou, just let us _help_ ,” Danielle pleaded, standing up.

“Why are we in danger, Tommo?” Niall asked worriedly.

“You’re _not_ , you’re fine – oh, you know what, fine, you two can help.” The girls grinned smugly.

“And what about us?” Zayn said indignantly, scrambling up. “We’re in danger from something called Wraiths, and you won’t even tell us how to avoid it?”

“What if we did what you lot did, became Hunters or whatever?” Liam asked.

“ _No_!” Louis shouted. “No, no, no, don’t do that, that’ll make things worse. You’re not in danger from the Wraiths, you’re in _danger_ of becoming Hunters, and I’d rather you _not_. Now, if we’re all done here, I need to go.” He didn’t wait for their reply, just ambled off, practically mid-sentence, his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Please excuse Louis,” Danielle said, her cloak disappearing in a puff of gold. “He’s been pretty stressed in the last few months, but none of us really know why...”

“We’ve got a pretty shrewd guess though,” Eleanor snapped, pulling out a packet of bubblegum from her hoodie pocket. She unwrapped it, gnawed it into her mouth with her front teeth, and threw the wrapper behind her. Danielle sighed, sent a shock of gold ribbon towards the flyaway wrapper, and caught both ribbon and litter in her hand. “There’s a clusterfuck of Wraiths headed this way. Or maybe it’s one big one? No one knows. Anyway, The Boss is bringing in reinforcements, and they’re probably looking to recruit, and Louis wants to keep you lot out of the way, but _especially_ Harry.” She blew a big, pink bubble, and then drew it into her mouth and snapped it against her teeth. She repeated the action several times – snap, snap, snap. “S’why he came back, I reckon, keep you lot out of The Boss’s eye.” She snorted. “Bit late for that, really, considering you attract the Wraiths like magnets.”

“Let’s not forget, it’s up to the individual as to whether they want to become a Hunter,” Danielle said easily. “Besides, The Boss might not even ask them.”

“I’m sorry, but who _is_ The Boss?”

The girls both shrugged. “No one knows – they take many forms, although the most common one is as a white cat.”

“...You’re taking orders from a cat.”

“Course not,” Eleanor said incredulously. “We’re takin’ orders from a cat with fucking _magical_ powers, _big_ difference.”

***

Zayn’s port of call for internet research went as follows – Amazon, for potential books, Google Books for, well, more books, and then – and only then – would he use Wikipedia. However, typing ‘Wraith’ into Amazon yielded nothing more than supernatural romances and a movie with Charlie Sheen in it, Google Books gave him even _more_ romance novels, and Wikipedia gave him _two_ lines of any relevance, before subjecting him to various album titles and fictional characters.

“Try typing ‘What’s a Wraith and why’s it bad’,” Niall suggested, slouching on Zayn’s bed. Zayn sighed but did as he was told, punching his fingers obnoxiously onto the keys to illustrate how dumb he found this idea.

“Wow, what an incredible minefield of information you’ve discovered!” Zayn called back, scrolling through page after page of video game references and tumblr blogs.

“All right, wise ass, just ask it what a Wraith _is_ then,” Niall said.

“It’s not _sentient_ , I don't _ask_ _it_ ” Zayn spat back, nevertheless doing as he was asked.

That proved to be more useful, but only just. Apparently it was a ghost like being from Scottish lore, but it didn’t really explain why they needed to be hunted.

“Maybe that’s just a name they gave it?” Liam piped up, the first time he’d spoken in about an hour. “Maybe that’s what it looks like, but it’s not actually got a real name?”

“So how’m I supposed to look it up?” Zayn asked; Liam shrugged. “Hey, you’ve been real quiet, what’s up?”

“I was just thinking, is there anything I’d wish for, anything I want so bad, that I’d risk my life fighting these Wraiths, or give up my family and friends for? I mean, Danielle’s answer didn’t really help, you know? She was suffering pretty bad, but I’m just... I’m happy; I don’t need a wish like that.”

“I know what you mean,” Niall said, stretching his back until it cracked. “Like, there’s loads of stuff I want, but nothing like _that_.”


	3. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the warnings!

The thing about having a life changing experience was that you didn’t necessarily want to go to school afterwards, so Liam spent Thursday (and Friday) pulling off a very convincing stomach bug.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His mum said over the phone on Friday. It was the fourth time she’d rung, and Liam was running out of ways to say ‘yes’ without sounding too eager to have her out of the house.

“I’ll be fine for a few more hours,” he said weakly, hacking a cough into his fist for good measure.

“I’ll bring you some soup home,” she replied – he could almost imagine her snapping her fingers home with delightful epiphany.

“Thanks, Mum.”

However, Liam wasn’t _used_ to sick days. He’d never ‘pulled a sicky’, not even when both of his parents had said he could take a few days off after Louis went missing. He preferred to be working, to be kept busy. But this _wish_ business was occupying the majority of his brain space; he didn’t have the mental capacity for algebra today.

His phone rang.

“Hello?” He said pathetically, cursing that he hadn’t thought to check the caller ID.

“A little birdy told me you didn’t bother with school today,” Niall laughed, and Liam breathed a sigh of relief.

“And who’d that birdy be?” He asked, using his regular voice.

“I’m sat on the kerb outside your house looking at your car, mate.” Liam, still bundled up in his duvet, shuffled over to the living room window, threw back the net curtain, and looked out of the window – sure enough, Niall’s blonde head was just visible over the picket fence.

“Do you want to come in, then?”

“I actually wanted you to come _out_ , but I guess you’re not going to?”

“No, best not.”

“I’ll come in then, yeah.”

Niall didn’t bother knocking, just marched into the house, past Liam, and onto the sofa, flopping down onto it and directing his attention to the television.

“I went out with the girls,” Niall said nonchalantly – Liam raised his eyebrows.

“Bit vague.”

“You know, Danielle and Eleanor.”

“ _Oh_.” Liam replied. Niall nodded. “Did they...?”

“It was so _cool_!” Niall said, standing up and leaning forward onto his toes excitedly. “Right, they took me to this warehouse, and there was this Wraith thing, like, ten feet high and white, like smoke – apparently it was like a less powerful one, the more powerful ones are darker – and they got out their weapons and just POW! ZAP! BAM!” Each shout was punctuated by a flying fist, each narrowly missing Liam’s head.

“Louis would be pretty angry if he knew,” Liam said warily – Niall brushed him off with a wave of his hand.

“What Tommo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

***

“- And then he said ‘What Tommo doesn’t know won’t hurt him’,” Liam finished off worriedly. He heard Zayn transfer his phone from one ear to the other.

“He’s an idiot,” Zayn said simply. “Because I’ve been Skyping with Eleanor, and what they do is _dangerous_ -”

“Am I the _only_ one who’s been avoiding these girls?!” Liam asked incredulously.

“Li, to be fair, you’ve been avoiding _everyone_ these past couple days,” Zayn joked.

“They’re dangerous!” Liam said indignantly.

“They also know lots,” Zayn said absentmindedly, fingers tapping away on his computer. “And I like knowing lots.”

“They carry _weapons_ ,” Liam hissed through his teeth, as though the word alone was dangerous.

“So does Louis.”

“He was our friend before all of this!”

“Uh huh.”

“We know he’s not dangerous!”

“Yeah.”

“Are you even listening?!”

“Hmm.”

Liam sat in fuming silence for a minute and, in the silence, he could hear the faint ting that signalled a message on Skype. “Are you Skyping that Eleanor girl _now_?”

“I can honestly say I’m not Skyping Eleanor.”

“Danielle, then.”

“Perrie, actually.” Before Liam could ask, Zayn continued. “She’s one of their Hunter friends from out of town, she knows a lot about Wraith and stuff.”

“Zayn, this isn’t some Enid Blyton mystery to solve!” Zayn made a pleased noise at the reference, but Liam ignored him. “This is dangerous! Niall’s gallivanting off on Hunting trips, you’re finding out too much about it, Louis told us to stay out of this for our own good!”

“Danielle wants to talk to you,” Zayn said distractedly, “so I gave her your Skype address.” Sure enough, a friend request popped up on his laptop screen as soon as he logged in and, unable to be rude, Liam accepted. “Listen, I need to go, call me later, yeah?”

Danielle called almost immediately, and Liam accepted the call with some trepidation.

“Liam? Hello, I’m Danielle, we met the other day?” She was a lot less threatening than Liam had built her up in his head – her hair was piled messily into a bun on her head, she was wearing an oversized jumper, and the curtains in her room were pulled wide open, washing out her face with sunlight. Cluttering her desk were energy drink cans and empty mugs – she noticed him looking and smiled tiredly. “I don’t really want to sleep, you know.”

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep? Louis said something about not needing it...” Liam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“We don’t, but it gets uncomfortable to stay awake for too long. It’s like... If you stretch an elastic band for too long, it loses its shape? But the nightmares are worse than not sleeping, so...” She trailed off, shrugged, and then laughed. “I’m sorry! I actually messaged you for a reason, and that wasn’t to moan about my lack of sleep!” She stopped laughing and looked at Liam seriously. “Don’t let any of your friends become Hunters.”

“I – excuse me?”

“Your friends, Zayn and Niall? Don’t let them become Hunters. It’s not a nice life.”

“I... Okay?”

“Before I met Eleanor and Louis, I was horrifically lonely,” Danielle said bluntly. “I left home because the Wraith were being drawn to my town just by me being in it, so I had no family and no friends. Even now, with El and Lou, I have to face the fact that one day they might not come back. That’s one of the reasons we came here, actually, because Louis just disappeared without a trace, and we knew if he’d voluntarily gone anywhere, it would be here.”

“What’s Louis been like these past few years?” Liam asked – Danielle frowned in thought.

“He’s like... He doesn’t let anyone too close, you know? I met him when I was eighteen, and he’d been doing the Hunting thing for a long time by then, a _really_ long time, and I get the feeling he’s lost a lot of important people in that time? So he’s cold and brittle sometimes – oh, and Eleanor thinks the world of him.”

“Really? I thought they hated each other.”

Danielle laughed again. “Oh, no, that’s not it! She wants him to admire her as much as she admires him, so she doesn’t like it when he swoops in to save her arse. He doesn’t want her to put herself at risk just to show off. It’s a mutual thing – platonic, but definitely mutual.”

“So, what else did you want to tell me?”

“...No, that was pretty much it! I don’t think Louis would ever forgive us if your friends became Hunters because of us, and it _is_ dangerous, so please try to dissuade them from romanticising it too much?

***

It was easy enough to keep an eye on Zayn, by virtue of him spending most of his time either in school or at the town library. Unfortunately, due to Liam also having to attend school, Niall was much more difficult to keep track of. Eventually, he turned to Louis and Harry for assistance.

Neither of them left the house much, too wrapped up in each other to bother with the outside world, but Liam also suspected that Louis was using this opportunity to keep Harry under watch and away from The Boss.

When Liam dropped by to see them, Harry’s older sister Gemma opened the door.

“I might fit a revolving door here,” she said wearily, pulling the door open. “Go on up, half the town is up there already.”

A gross exaggeration, but Niall, Zayn, and Eleanor were all sitting on Harry’s bedroom floor, with Harry himself lying on his bed, shooting bemused looks from the three on the floor to his bathroom door. Niall looked indignant, Zayn looked tired, and Eleanor looked almost guilty – all four of them looked up upon Liam’s arrival.

“Hi, Liam,” Harry said, glancing over at him. “Don’t suppose _you_ have any idea what’s going on?”

“I literally just got here,” Liam said.

Harry sat up. “Well, these two girls I’ve never met, along with Zayn and Niall, have arrived at my house, _those_ three aren’t saying anything,” he glared at them accusingly “and the other girl’s been shouting at Lou in the bathroom for the past ten minutes.”

Danielle chose that particular moment to scream “Tell him the _truth_!” – Everyone but Harry winced. Liam sat down on the floor next to Zayn, who instantly pulled his phone out, thumbs whizzing over the keys. Liam’s own phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Eleanor took Niall out Hunting, nearly got them both killed. Danielle was too busy fighting another Wraith on the other side of town – she’s pissed at Lou for not keeping up with his work, pissed at Eleanor for taking Niall out, and pissed at you for not keeping an eye on Niall like you apparently said you would.” This was quickly followed by another text, “I had about two hours sleep last night, aha”

Liam was prevented from replying by the door slamming open – Danielle looked livid, and she was looking livid directly at Liam.

“I can’t watch him all the time, I have to go to school!” Liam said hastily, holding up his hand. Danielle nodded, softening her expression slightly.

“A fair excuse. What’s _yours_ , hmm?” She turned on Eleanor, who flinched. “When I specifically told you to stay away from Louis’s friends?”

“Hey, I found _him_ ” she pointed at Niall “trying to track a Wr- _it_ down on his own, he’d have been friend without me!”

“Will someone _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?” Harry said loudly.

“I’m sorry, Harry, it’s not up to me to tell you,” Danielle said gently, tossing at glare at Louis, who flushed angrily.

“No!”

“What are you _accomplishing_ by keeping him in the dark?” Eleanor blurted out, exasperated. “You’re spending all your time at his side, and you have a _job_ to do!”

“Oh, yes, because telling people worked _so_ well last time!” Louis shouted, waving his arm. “Niall’s gallivanting with you, Zayn spends most of the night quizzing Perrie, and Liam has been avoiding me for nearly a _week_!”

“I haven’t been _avoiding_ you...” Liam said weakly.

“Somebody tell me what’s going on, or I’ll kick you all out. _All_ of you,” Harry finished with a pointed look at Louis.

“Your friend Louis has spent the past few years-”

“Out, get _out_ , I’ll tell him myself!” Louis said furiously, shoving them all out of the door.

***

Liam skipped dinner that night, claiming residual illness from the previous week so that he could go lie down on his bed with a nice, distinctly unmagical comic book.

He was halfway through an old issue of Batman (good old Batman, saving Gotham using technology and his own brains with distinctly _no magic_ ), when he heard a knock at his bedroom window.

“Uh, come in?” Liam said confusedly, his ingrained response to knocking coming to the front of his brain.

“I can’t, you prat, this is a _window_ ,” Louis replied – Liam opened his curtains and jimmied open the window, where Louis was mid eye-roll.

“So, you can fly ten feet into the air, but you can’t open a crummy window?” Liam asked incredulously as Louis dropped in neatly.

“I _can_ open a window, but it would require a brick, and I figured that might draw attention,” Louis said primly. “Can I stay the night? Harry kicked me out, and your house was closest.”

“He kicked you out for being a Hunter?”

“No,” Louis said nonchalantly, sitting on Liam’s bed and bouncing lightly. “He kicked me out for lying to him.”

“...Fair enough, actually. Did you tell him _why_ he was in danger?”

Louis shook his head miserably. “I told him about the Wraith and stuff, but I can’t tell him why they’re going to target him or how I know that – I tried telling someone before.” Louis looked up at Liam and smiled faintly. “Didn’t go so well.”

“He’ll come around,” Liam said, putting a comforting arm around Louis’s shoulders. “He needs you.”

“How was he? After I left, I mean.”

“...I don’t think you want to know.”

Louis laughed humourlessly. “Li, I _know_ I don’t want to know, but I think I need to know. You know?”

“Well, he was... Fine at first, actually,” Liam said, remembering. “He genuinely believed you’d come back at some point. And then people gave up on you, and he got angry, and stressed, and made himself ill. Missed a lot of school, then just dropped out of school altogether. I genuinely think he was going to get better, and then you just showed up again.” Liam sighed, shaking his head. “After he dropped out, I went round once a week, just to see how he was doing and then... It got too difficult, seeing him like that, so I stopped speaking to them all. Zayn went to private school... Niall hung round with Harry for a bit, he seemed to be the only one that _could_ , and then he went abroad as soon as he finished school. Before I knew it we’d all grown apart, and I didn’t speak to any of them until you came back.”

Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times, as though he was cycling through all the different questions he could ask. “Would you have spoken to them eventually?”

“I guess? Yeah, I think I would have, but never like we do now. You’re kind of our glue, mate.”

Less than fifteen minutes after Louis arrived, Liam’s mum shouted up the stairs. “Liam! Door for you!” Liam went downstairs, Louis close behind.

Harry looked twitchy and miserable, beanie pulled down low over his head and hoodie swamping his body. His hands were shoved into the hoodie pocket; Liam could see them shaking.

“Tell your parents that my dog is dead and I need you to come over to comfort me,” Harry said flatly, resolutely ignoring Louis. Trusting that ‘no’ wasn’t going to be an option here, Liam did as he was told.

“They send their regards,” Liam said, shutting the front door behind him.

“Sorry I made you lie to your parents, I don’t really like it when people lie,” Harry said nonchalantly. “But I don’t really have the patience to interact with anyone unnecessary at the moment. Zayn and Niall are meeting us at Cafe Blanc, and they’re bringing the girls.”

“Harry, I-” Louis began; Harry walked around Liam, away from Louis, leaving Liam as the filling of an awkward silence sandwich.

The other four were already sitting in the cafe upon their arrival – Liam went to sit down, but Harry shook his head.

“We’re not staying,” he said. “You’re all going to take me Hunting.”

“I – pardon, Harry?” Danielle asked, wiping pastry off her fingers with a napkin.

“I’m sick of not knowing anything, so I want to see what this ‘Hunting’ business actually is before I draw any conclusions.”

“To be fair, me and Liam haven’t been Hunting either,” Zayn said, shrugging.

“But you haven’t been lied to and kept in the dark about it.”

“I’m willing to take you,” Eleanor said warily. “But it’s up to-”

“No, the only person it’s up to is me, and I want you to take me,” Harry said hotly. Despite this, Eleanor still looked to Louis for confirmation – he nodded wearily. She turned to Niall.

“I’m assuming you want to come, too?” He nodded fervently. “Then Danielle and Louis need to come too, because I’m guessing Zayn will want to come along to take notes or something, which’ll mean Liam won’t want to be left behind.”

“Fine, but _please_ , stick together?” Danielle said worriedly. “It’ll be easier to keep an eye on you if you’re all in one place.” They all nodded in agreement.

It didn’t take long to find what they were looking for – Eleanor led them through winding alleyways and dark underpasses until they halted in a dark, dank subway. In coloured puffs of gold, crimson, and violet, Danielle, Eleanor, and Louis changed into their thick cloaks, weapons at the ready.

“There’s one in that industrial estate,” Eleanor whispered. “Small, I think. Should be a piece of cake.”

“Stick together,” Danielle said. “And follow me.”

At first, Liam couldn’t see a thing – in fairness, he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for. It wasn’t until Eleanor leaned her spear on his shoulder and drew an outline with the tip that Liam realised he had been looking on far too small a scale. It was like a rolling grey fog, thick, and very fast moving.

“Stay here, I’ll draw it out,” Eleanor said, running towards it.

“They can’t fight it until it takes a form,” Niall said knowledgeably. “So they have to provoke it to make it take one.”

“What happens if you don’t kill them? Like, why’re they bad?” Harry asked curiously – an answer was deemed unnecessary when the Wraith took the form of a giant, demon faced Jack-In-The-Box with a wide, toothy grin.

Danielle smiled grimly. “Imagine meeting _that_ without a weapon in your hand.” She and Louis took off at the same time, running towards the Wraith – where Danielle’s run was fast and fluid, Louis seemed to disappear and reappear in another place moments later – Liam was forced to admit that this was probably the case.

“So, what do they do now?” Harry asked, watching them circle the Wraith with wide eyes.

“Now?” Zayn said. “They kill it, hopefully.” Gunfire rang out, and the Wraith roared in pain.

“...It’s not as exciting as I thought it’d be,” Zayn said some moments later.

“It’s because we’re so far away,” Liam replied. “It’s like we’re watching a movie.”

“Eleanor usually let’s me get closer,” Niall said smugly. “ _That’s_ exciting. I nearly lost an eye, last time.”

“That’s not exciting, that’s terrifying,” Liam said flatly.

“No, it was, because El threw her spear at the last minute, so its tentacle stopped just by my eye, it was _wicked_.”

Danielle turned to look over at them. “How are you all doing?” She waved her arm to get their attention.

“Fine!” Harry yelled back, shrugging exaggeratedly. “Don’t see why this all had to be some big secret-”

“Dani, look out!” Eleanor shrieked, but it was already too late – Liam watched in horror as the Wraith extended itself towards Danielle, opened its great mouth and snapped it shut. It pulled away, Danielle’s body dangling from its mouth limply – her cloak disappeared in a puff of yellow, leaving Danielle in the flowery dress she had been wearing before the battle. The Wraith opened its mouth to grin at the stunned humans, and Danielle’s body fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

A blast from a gun sounded off, and a bullet sailed neatly through the Wraith’s head – it blinked, surprised, and then disappeared in a very anticlimactic wisp of white.

“Do you see _now_ why I didn’t tell you, why I didn’t want any of you to know?” Louis shouted furiously. “Because of _that_. _That_ happens every fucking day when you’re a Hunter, and I’ve watched it happen so many times, _forgive_ me if I’d rather it didn’t happen to you!”

Eleanor looked away from where she’d been staring at Danielle, her eyes wide and accusing. “You knew. You _knew_ this would happen.”

“I – what?”

“You _knew_ Dani was going to die, you and whatever your Oh So Secret power is, you know things are going to happen before they do, like you _know_ Harry’s in danger, or how you _know_ about that gang of Wraith heading this way – you _bastard_!” She jumped, rocketing out of sight before anyone could call her back.

“Did you?” Harry asked weakly, the first words he’d directly spoken to Louis all night. “Did you know?”

“I know some things, but I didn’t know that,” Louis said tiredly, pulling off his cloak and draping it over Danielle. “You lot might want to go, I need to get rid of her body, it might upset you-”

“Tommo, we just saw her get fucking decapitated, we’re past the point of being upset,” Niall said, his face blotchy and eyes red. Louis opened his mouth, closed it again, and nodded once.

“We should say something,” Liam said quickly. “She was pretty lonely, she might’ve liked to know that people would speak at her funeral.”

“You barely knew her.”

“It’s weird,” Harry said, frowning – his eyes were wet. “But I feel like I did? A long time ago, maybe. Eleanor, too.”

“I... Fine. But hurry up, I don’t want anyone seeing us.”

“Um,” Liam said, when it became obvious that no one else was going to start. “I hope you’re not lonely anymore, Dani, wherever you are.”

“Yeah,” Zayn continued. “You were always lovely to us, I just wish everything could have been as lovely back to you.”

“See you again, Dani,” Harry said quietly – out of the corner of his eye, Liam saw Louis shoot Harry a confusingly anguished look.

“You protected people until the end, can’t ask for any more than that,” Niall said.

“Never again,” Louis bit out – he seemed to be addressing Danielle herself, almost as though he was promising her something. He clicked his fingers; the cloak on the ground flattened. “We can’t even _bury_ each other, in case our graves get found,” he said bitterly, bending over and folding up his cloak. “Have to dissolve the bodies with magic. Nothing left to mourn, but that doesn’t make it any fucking easier.”

“How many times have you done this?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Too many.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite this chapter entirely, because it didn't have the tone I wanted - altogether shorter, but better than what I had a week ago, I think.


	4. Niall

Niall was getting itchy feet. It was an ingrained habit, at this point – when things got bad, he’d pack a bag and leave, the custom exacerbated by several years spent travelling wherever and whenever he wanted. But he _couldn’t_ leave, not this time, there were people holding him down; he _wanted_ to leave, he even had a bag packed and ready, but he couldn’t justify running again, not this time.

He tried to combat the urge to run by taking long walks around town, sometimes walking the whole perimeter before admitting that he should probably get back. It was during one of these walks that he ran into Eleanor.

She looked a _mess_ , but then again, he probably didn’t look much better. It had been a little under a week since they’d all watched Danielle die and none of them had seen Eleanor in that time, because she didn’t have a mobile and she’d never given them her address. She was sitting outside a block of flats, clutching a paper wrapped baguette and a cup of coffee in trembling hands.

“I forgot,” she whispered, and Niall honestly wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or not. “I woke up and I _forgot_ , so I came round with my sandwich and her coffee like I always do, and then I got halfway up the stairs before I remembered she wasn’t there. I _forgot_!”

“I don’t think she’d mind. You forgetting, I mean,” Niall said helplessly. Eleanor turned to look at him, whipping her head around with sheer fury.

“What would _you_ know?” She bit out maliciously. “You barely _knew_ her.”

“I had a dead best friend for four years,” Niall snapped back. “Trust me, I know what it’s like.” He sighed, and sat down next to her. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“Me too. Dani was always the polite one.” She smiled slightly. “When we first met Louis he told us to back off, so I took my spear out and tried to ram it through his kidney, but Danielle told me that was a rude way to act to a complete stranger. Exact words.” Niall smiled in response.

“Just after Louis disappeared, I asked Harry if he’d be my best friend now that Louis was gone.” Eleanor blinked and then laughed, loud and delighted.

“Ouch! Okay, you win there.” She sighed. “Feels weird, laughing.” She passed the coffee to Niall, and took a large bite of her sandwich. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now, Danielle’s like my other half, you know? She's the one with the flat and the qualifications, she could’ve made something of herself if she wanted to stop being a Hunter, and no one would’ve blamed her for it. Me? I live on the streets, I took my last exam when I was thirteen, and Hunting’s the only thing I know how to do, and even _then_ I’m not good enough to protect people.”

“You’re a _good_ Hunter,” Niall said fervently. “You stopped me from dying loads of times!”

She laughed humourlessly. “If I was a _great_ Hunter, you wouldn’t even come _close_ to dying. Louis and Dani are great Hunters, they protected me _loads_ of times.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Niall said. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I just feel like I wasted my wish, you know? One shot to wish for something really valuable – I could’ve wished to heal the sick, or feed the hungry, and I wished for something really _crap_.” He’d asked her before, what she’d wished for, and she had point blank refused to tell him – he didn’t expect her to have changed her mind now. “I’m gonna go find some Wraith to kill.” She stood up and, with a vague wave, drifted off down the street with her hands in her pockets.

Niall’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Zayn’s gone missing,” Liam said frantically – Niall sat upright, alert. “The school hasn’t seen him all week, his dorm room’s empty, his family are going mental, have you –”

“No,” Niall said. “You’ve checked the usual places?”

“Harry and Louis went to check the library, the last time they saw him in there was four days ago,” Liam said. “We think he’s trying to find The Boss.”

“To make a wish?”

“Yeah.”

Niall swore, hung up, and ran after Eleanor, who glanced up in surprise.

“Niall? What’re-”

“You can sense when Wraith are near, right? Like, Hunters can do that?”

“Yeah...”

“Zayn’s gone missing.”

“You think he’s made a wish?” Eleanor said, taking a sharp turn down an alleyway. “Seeing... _That_ wouldn’t have put him off, no?”

“You don’t know Zayn,” Niall said grimly. “He’s likely to get it into his head that to save all of us he needs to destroy himself in the process, trust me, it’ll be for some noble reason like that.”

They found a miasma of Wraith at the old football pitch where Niall had once played with his friends – in the centre of it was Zayn, flat on the ground, breathing shallowly, and clad in a bloodstained cloak. Eleanor swore, transformed, and charged forward, drawing the Wraith out to take the form of a giant ballet dancer on a cog.

“Niall, call Louis!” She yelled, throwing her spear – Niall pulled out his phone with fumbling fingers, and it took him several tries just to hit the right speed dial key.

“I have no signal!” Niall shouted back, holding his phone to his head – still nothing. Eleanor ran back over and stood in front of Niall, her spear flying back to her hand.

“It’s probably Wraithcraft!” She said over her shoulder.

“Wraithcraft?”

“Don’t judge me, Louis came up with it, not – duck!” The ballet dancer charged towards them, narrowly missing their heads as it flew over them. "Yeah, the Wraith are probably interfering with the electronics nearby!" Eleanor raced after the Wraith, chasing it round the field while Niall watched on helplessly.

“Niall Horan?” A voice said behind him. “Can I interest you in making a wish?” Niall didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind him.

“What could I do to help now?” But he had a pretty good idea, remembering what Eleanor had said about wishing to become a healer. “Wait, I wish that Zayn and Eleanor could return to full health every time this Wraith attacks them!”

A light blue flash exploded in his head, followed swiftly by a sharp throbbing pain that started at the back of his head and pushed forward to the front, settling in a point between his eyes. He blinked and the pain was suddenly gone, and Zayn was standing up again, staring at Niall in confusion.

“Did you bring weapons?” Eleanor shouted – Zayn produced a sword. “Of course you did. Alright, nerd, show us what you got – Niall, stay on the sidelines so you can watch for any times to heal us!”

Niall watched carefully, but his wish seemed to have taken hold – none of the ballet dancer’s hits were landing with any effect on either Zayn or Eleanor, and it didn’t take long for the Wraith to disappear in that puff of smoke.

“Louis is gonna _flip_ ,” Eleanor said, shaking her head. “Not one, but _two_ of you have decided to completely go against everything you’ve seen, and thought ‘hey, you know what? _Hunting_. Looks swell.’”

“The Boss offered me a chance to help Zayn not die, I took it,” Niall said, shrugging. “I don’t regret it. Wait, Zayner, what’d you wish for?”

“Uh, I wished to know where all of the Wraith are in advance, so I could get to them before anyone else could and no one else would die.”

“You mean you know where they all are? Right _now_?” Eleanor asked incredulously.

“I have to turn it on and off. It’s like looking at 3D pictures, where you have to cross your eyes to see it, but after a while you get a headache? But-” His eyes unfocused, staring into middle distance for a moment, and then fazed back. “The nearest one is in the next town over.”

“That’s pretty useful,” Niall said jealously.

“Louis’s still gonna be pissed.” Eleanor shrugged. “You two can deal with it, I had nothing to do with this.” She transformed back into her regular clothes, a hoodie too big for her and jeans, and sloped away, shoulders hunched.

“How is she?” Zayn asked worriedly, staring after her.

“About as good as you’d expect,” Niall replied.

***

Niall and Zayn decided to tell Louis together, figuring that the two of them would be more than a match for Louis’s anger. They hadn’t reckoned on Louis opening Harry’s door, taking one look at them still in their cloaks, Zayn's stiff with blood, and then slamming the door in their faces. In fact, it turned out they should’ve been more scared of Liam, who they went to visit next.

“What the _fuck_ are you _thinking_?” He shouted at them, barely waiting until he’d marched them into his thankfully vacant house. “What part of your brain told you this would be a good thing to do?!”

“Zayn would’ve _died_!” Niall shouted back, but it seemed that Liam wasn’t really angry at him, because he was focusing his glare entirely on Zayn.

“Whatever possessed Louis to do this was his business, we shouldn’t be letting him drag us down too!”

“ _Drag us down_?” Zayn spat incredulously, squaring his shoulders. “We should all be taking a leaf from his book, he’s spent the last few years-”

“What, _protecting_ us? Then why did he _come back_? If he wanted to protect us, he should've stayed away, and not brought all of this death and horror down onto our heads with the force of a ton of bricks!”

“Maybe you should both calm down a bit-” Niall tried to interrupt, but Zayn held up a hand to hush him.

“No, Niall, I want to know why Liam’s so angry at me specifically! I’m not a _child_ , Liam!”

“Get your entitled head out of your arse, Malik, I’m just as angry at Niall as I am at you!”

“I’m gonna... Leave...” Niall edged towards the front door.

“Don’t bother, I was going myself,” Zayn said coldly, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Liam sighed explosively and sat on his sofa, head in his hands.

“I _am_ angry at you, you know,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Niall replied placidly, sitting next to him and patting him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you just _tell_ him?”

“Tell him what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Niall said. “It’s pretty obvious.” Liam looked up slowly – Niall raised his eyebrows significantly a few times, and Liam blanched.

“Are you _serious_? Does Zayn know?”

“I think he’s the only one who doesn’t. Harry’s known since we were fifteen, Louis’s probably known since we first met.”

“I can’t tell him, especially now.”

“What do you mean, especially now?”

“People _die_ doing this, Niall! You can guarantee the minute I tell him he’ll get eaten, or decapitated, or, or-”

“Look,” Niall said tiredly. “I’m a great believer in letting what’s meant to happen, happen. If he’s meant to die doing his superhero thing, I honestly don’t think he’ll mind going that way. What he _will_ mind is going without you having the balls to tell him that you want his dick. Or want him to have yours. Honestly I don’t really want to know the details. In fact, go and tell him now, before he runs off too far.”

***

Niall sat in his room, staring at his suitcase again. He felt _guilty_ , considering running out on everyone again, but he hadn’t planned on getting this entrenched. He’d even gone as far as to buy an all week train ticket to Calais.

Zayn knocked on his window, hood pulled low over his face; Niall opened the window, and gestured for Zayn to climb in.

“He turned me down,” he said, crawling into Niall’s room and pulling back his hood – he’d obviously been crying. “Told me he _loved_ me, and then said he couldn’t be with me now that I was _this_ ,” he gestured to the cloak. “Looked at me like I was _terminal_ , for fuck’s sake.”

“Zayn...”

 Zayn sat on Niall’s bed. “I became a Hunter to protect all of you, but him in particular, because I knew he’d never become a Hunter even if his life depended on it, so I wanted to be able to... I don’t know, make sure he never got into that situation, I guess.”

“All right,” Niall said eventually, after deciding that maybe his departure could wait a little bit longer. “I’m gonna make you some food, and then we’re gonna sit and watch really shit movies for the rest of the day until you feel better. Deal?” Zayn nodded morosely, curling his legs up under his cloak until only the tips of his socks were visible.

“Okay,” Zayn said at the end of ‘Titanic: The Legend Goes On’. “I feel a little better.”

“Just give Liam some time,” Niall said gently. “Not all Hunters die, right? Louis’s still around, and he’s been a Hunter for who knows how long now, and Harry would probably jump at the chance to date him.”

Niall waited until Zayn had left before he called Liam - he got put through to voicemail three times and then, on his fourth try, Liam finally picked up the phone.

"You know, most people give up when they get to voicemail," Liam said stiffly.

"Most people answer their phones when people are trying to get hold of them," Niall replied cheerfully. "So, mind telling me what happened after I told you specifically to tell Zayn that you wanted his dick?"

"I couldn't do it," Liam said quietly - Niall could imagine him biting his lip. "I looked at him and imagined him dead like Danielle, and even thinking that felt terrible - how much worse would it be if I was dating him and it actually happened?"

"That... Is really selfish, wow."

"I didn't say I was proud of it," Liam snapped. 

"You know he became a Hunter to protect you?" Niall put in.

"He told me. Well, he didn't say it in so many words, but it was heavily implied. But I don't  _owe_ it to him to date him just because of that."

"I didn't say you did."

They were silent a few moments, and then Liam sighed.

"Maybe I just need some time to get used to it. I mean, it's just like having a loved one in the armed forces, right?"

"Or loving anyone - people can die at any time, Li, that doesn't stop them dating each other."

"I'll talk to him again."

"That's the spirit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The danger of writing chapter 5 before chapter 4 is that it takes a long, long time to write a suitable segue and, in the end, the Niall chapter just wasn't a long one. And was also a bit of a filler. But, if it's any consolation, shit goes _down_ in the fifth chapter. Things are intense. People die. So many people. All of the people.  
>  (This is a slight exaggeration, but please do heed the content warnings!)


End file.
